Miranda looked up from her computer terminal to see who was standing at the doorway. As he entered, she was surprised to see that it was Shepard. She couldn't remember the last time he had knocked on her door before entering, if ever. Upon seeing her, he smiled, but it was an awkward, strained smile, not the confidant, charming one he usual gave her. She returned one similar.
"So, the crew seems pretty excited about their leave," he commented, rubbing the back of his neck as he walked over to the viewport, his eyes scanning the Citadel's wings.
"I've noticed," she said as she focused her attention on the terminal once more, "You made the right call, I think."
Shepard turned his head slightly, "I hope so. The entire crew seems to be excited about the deal." He crossed his arms, letting out a heavy sigh, "They deserve a break after all we've been through."
Miranda's hummed 'yes' was drowned out by her typing, her eyes not even leaving the screen as her fingers danced across the keyboard. Shepard's eyes fell to the floor before he turned his head back towards the viewport. The lights of the Citadel reminded him of the first 'official' date they went on. He recalled when they entered the Omega nightclub, Afterlife, its bright lights flashing across the ceiling in a dazzling brilliance. He recalled turning to look at Miranda, and seeing her smile make the rest of the place look dim. He remembered those days vividly – and wished things were as it was back then.
The memory caused a displeased expression to mar his features. He turned and walked around her desk, lightly grabbing her arms as he did - forcing her to stop typing. He kneeled beside her and brought her face in his direction. He wanted to be sure she was looking at him when he said what he needed to say.
"Shepard, I have a lot of w-" Miranda started to protest, knowing full well what he would say, but he cut her off.
"Just let me talk. Please," he pleaded.
Miranda nodded in acknowledgement, biting her tongue as she fought the urge to say what was written all over his face.
"Look," he started, his eyes glancing down to her hands as he moved to grasp them in his. "I know this isn't what we wanted – or expected. All of this inaction, I mean. The Reapers are out there and that's something we should be putting all of our resources into stopping… but without any leads, and no word yet from Admiral Hackett… we've done nothing but trivial things – and that's not something you and I are used to."
"I know it's been hard on us." His eyes began to wander up her arms, eventually resting themselves on her lips as he continued, "We've taken our cabin fever out on one another… the smallest little thing has been setting off an argument between us," he paused, his eyes finally fully fixed on her's. "And I'm sorry for that, Miranda. I'm sorry for all the things I've said to you that have hurt you – that's the last thing I want to do. You're the most important woman in the universe to me… I've had no reason to act the way I have to you."
"Shepa-"
He squeezed her hands gently, "I want to fix us. I think some time away from all of this ourselves would do us good. We could go wherever you want – do whatever you want – I don't care. As long as I spend the next two weeks with you and get to see you smile at me the way you used, I'll be the happiest man alive. I love you, Miranda – and I just want to fix this… fix us," Shepard's thumbs stroked the back of her hands as his eyes fell to her thighs, darting back and forth – trying to figure out if there was anything more he needed to say. When his eyes did come back up to meet Miranda's, there was a sad desperation in his eyes, and it broke her heart to see it.
'Anywhere, Shepard – let's go, right now, I don't care,' was Miranda's first thought, but unable to let her guard down, an entirely different response to left her lips;
"Shepard… I… don't really know if a trip can fix," she paused, her head turning slightly to stop herself from gazing into his eyes before finishing," …this."
The pained expression on his face grew more evident, but with it also came a look of fierce determination, "I'm not going to give up on you, Miranda – and I never will. It'll take a lot more than just cabin fever to make me stop caring about you – to stop loving you." He raised a hand to her chin, turning her face back to his. "Maybe you're right… maybe this won't fix anything. But after all that we've been through, we at least owe each another enough to try, don't we?"
'Yes! Yes, yes, yes…,' every bone in her body cried out, but her wall stood – and just like her first response, the words were lost – not able to make it past the knot in her throat.
"Fine," she heard herself reply.
'What? No! It's not fine! Tell him, damnit! Tell him!'
"I…" she began, her mind doing the talking that her heart didn't want it to. "I have a lot of work to do before we leave then… as I'm sure you do as well," she pulled her hands free of his, not meeting his eyes once as she turned her gaze back towards her terminal.
Shepard stood, his eyes staring down at the woman he loved. He was discouraged, yes, but he wasn't beaten. As he leaned over and kissed the top of her head, he whispered, "I love you, Miranda Lawson – and I always will."
His hand rested on her shoulder briefly, hoping to hear a response. When none came, he turned and made for the door. His walk was different, Miranda noticed briefly as he left. It was a stature she had only seen once previously – a mix of a man who felt he was on the verge of losing everything, yet desperately trying to prevent it – fighting with every fiber of his being to prevent it from happening.
Seeing that walk caused Miranda's eyes to flood with tears. She put her head in her hands as she began sobbing, realizing that she was shutting out the only man who would ever understand her – the only man who ever appreciated her – and the only man who would ever make her happy.
It was in this state of misery that Miranda's wall finally shattered. Her emotions worn down enough to let out a single whisper, "I love you too, Shepard."